


hollow crown

by taurussieben



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Fashion Designer!Magnus, Hospitals, Implied Disability, M/M, Makeup, Mentions of War, Miscommunication, Serious Injuries, Soldier!Alec, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taurussieben/pseuds/taurussieben
Summary: He nodded at himself in the mirror, took the keys from the bowl on the sideboard in the hallway, checked for his pockets for his card and phone, and stepped out. The door closed behind him with a soft click.“I think we should take a break.”A story about how we shape our own world and that sometimes, that shape is much more different then we thought it is.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 40
Kudos: 198
Collections: Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020





	hollow crown

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was created for the Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020 hosted by the [Malec Discord Server](https://discord.gg/5nBgEp8).
> 
> This was a blast, I got on board as a pinch hitter and it finally kicked started me to write this little thing that had been floating around in my head. 
> 
> Thanks go to [alistoney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistoney/pseuds/alistoney) for combing through this fic. <3
> 
> Title: hollow crown by Issac Gracie
> 
> This is read best with Creator's style on.

Why did we break down  
Why did we break down  
Was it just cos we weren't ready  
Why did we break down  
Why did we break down  
Was I too vulnerable, too unsteady?

(hollow crown - Issac Gracie)

Magnus Bane closed the last button of his waistcoat, then gently plucked it in place. Purple had been the right choice, he noted with satisfaction. He reached for cufflinks with obsidian and fasted them before he righted the golden tie.

 _“You are a man. Gold clothing is only worn by whores.”_ The voice of his father was as sharp as his words. Magnus Bane shifted it away with a roll of his shoulders.

 _“Oh, my boy, what are you doing? Make-up isn’t for you, sweetie.”_ His mother’s voice rang through him as he picked up the black charcoal eye pencil--a soft and sweet voice coming from a faraway place.

Finished, Magnus took a step back and turned, checking himself once over. Then he slipped into the midnight-blue satin jacket.

_“Ah, Magnus, I’m sorry, you aren’t what we are looking for. We need someone more…understated, less flashy. I hope you understand.”_

From his elegant leather shoes to the colored hair tips of his mohawk he looked great. As a last detail, he fastened his golden fob watch to the waistcoat and slipped the clock into the small pocket.

 _“Magnus Bane, was so lame, puny boy, who’s gay. If you see him, run away, or he will k.i.s.s. you,”_ followed shrieking and high-pitched laughter. Magnus Bane let the sound fade.

He nodded at himself in the mirror, took the keys from the bowl on the sideboard in the hallway, checked for his pockets for his card and phone, and stepped out. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

_“I think we should take a break.”_

“Magnus, over here!” Catarina Loss was waving at him. She looked lovely. In the dim light of the bar, one of those upscale bars with a hundred half chrome light bulbs in the ceiling, her dark skin glowed. Magnus noted with satisfaction that she wore the off-white shift dress with gold trimmings he had made for her. She had pulled her white hair up in twists and braids. She looked like a modern incarnation of a Greek muse.

He smiled. Ragnor Fell, the grumpy older man next to her, in a blood-red corduroy three-piece suite with a black button-up, rolled his eyes.

“You look handsome,” Catarina said after they had settled down. A waiter materialized next to them. They ordered a bottle of wine.

Which was the wrong choice, if the tightening of the waiter’s jaw was anything to go by. Then the whole face smoothed out again into that freakish half-zombie customer expression, and he went away.

“So, Magnus, tell me about that new collection,” Catarina said with glowing eyes. She once explained to him that taking care of a small girl and running shifts as the head nurse at the local hospital left her without much excitement. She lived vigorously through him. Magnus loved to indulge her.

“It’s coming along,” he said, tapping his finger on the table.

“What will it be about?” She leaned forward.

“Ah, something you want to know.” He laughed and swatted her hand away as she wanted to poke him. Ragnor opened his mouth but closed it again as the waiter appeared at his elbow. He put down a bottle and three glasses.

“Will this be all?” His voice wasn’t outright rude, but close. Ragnor raised an eyebrow.

“Begone, boy.” The waiter scowled but shuffled away.

“Ragnor, don’t make the staff angry. I’m still cross with you that we got kicked out and banned from that small little pizza place at your corner.” Catarina said with faint amusement. Magnus hummed his agreement, it had been a rather pleasant place. Outnumbered, Ragnor huffed and crossed his arms.

They saluted each other after Magnus poured the wine and tasted it.

Hours later, humming a soft melody and tipsy, Magnus Bane turned the key in the lock to his apartment and flicked the lights on. Everything was as he had left it. He put his keys and the card on the sideboard and took out his private phone. There were no new messages.

He slipped out of the jacket and hung it up. He took out the cufflinks and put them into their box before putting it into the drawer to all the other boxes of his growing collection. Then, he divested himself methodically from all other clothing pieces and put them away. Every piece had its own place. Down to his boxer shorts, he walked into the bathroom, taking off the make-up and brushing out his hair. He went through his skin-care routine, and then he turned off the lights and slipped into his bed.

Still too big.

Too cold.

Too silent.

Sleep never came.

Over the course of his life, Magnus Bane had learned many truths: The world was a strange place; life wasn’t fair; if you want something, you need to fight for it yourself. The last truth is the one he had most lived by. He often fought, with passion, with determination, and with anger. There he had learned another fundamental truth: Sometimes, we are too tired to fight against an army.

Meeting Alexander Gideon Lightwood ( _Lieutenant_ Alexander Gideon Lightwood, thank you, please) had nothing from your stereotypical meet-cute-rom-com-moment. There was no accidental coffee spilling, no rescue from a rolling trash container (even if Magnus Bane looked cute in high-heels), no birds singing or violins.

It had entailed a sharp elbow to his rips and a voice bellowing, “Shove it, you’re blocking the entry.” And what then passed him, had been a Greek god of a man: Tall, broad shoulders, slimmer waist, a face with (stormy) dark eyes, a (cute) perfect nose, and full (kissable) lips. The stranger had shot him a glower, and Magnus Bane had followed.

Because the truth was (another one for his collection), before they’d fallen in love, they had been in lust. Magnus had chatted him up, or more chatted him around in circles until Alec had given him his number, just to shut him up. And it worked. Magnus blew him a kiss and started to text. And text. And text. Until a disgruntled Alec had rung the bell of his apartment, angry and key-up (Magnus was the master of sexual innuendo) enough to fuck or to be fucked, Magnus was still hazy on those particular details. 

So everything that came _after_ was a pleasant surprise: The going out, the non-sex-sleep, the introduction as the boyfriend to Alec’s friends and his parents, the moving in together. Alec was a storm, crashing through conventions with a single-mindedness Magnus had seldom seen. The reason for it came out bit by bit over the course of their relationship. Being a part of the military and attracted to males didn’t blend very well, and Alec was a born and bred soldier, hailing from a very long line of soldiers. A family legacy that reached back hundreds of years, all documented and displayed in their ancestral home.

On the (fateful) day they met, Alec had just dissolved his engagement to a charming woman. The day they had sex the first time, he had come out to his family, and two hours before he introduced Magnus as his boyfriend, he told that he was dating a man at all. What Alec did, he did with razor-sharp focus.

They did have their problems, and yet it always worked for them.

_“I think we should take a break.”_

* * *

Magnus swallowed and leaned back. He let the hand with the tablet pencil sink down. In the past, work had always been an escape for him. Whatever he went through, when he sat down and took up a pencil to draw, everything else fell away. What remained and mattered was the paper and the pen and his imagination.

This time all was different.

_“They don’t want me there, they never have.”_

_“And you?” A tired question._

_“Me?”_

_“Did you ever want to be there?”_

Magnus closed his eyes and exhaled. A sudden jitter made him spring up and walk up and down the apartment. Alec didn’t take much with him. His unexpected deployment had cut it short. A blank spot on the wall, where once a picture hung, a mug that wasn’t at its place anymore, a few books whose missing presence was cluttered through the bookshelves in gaping black spaces—the empty nightstand.

Magnus ignored all those places and stopped at the floor-length windows overlooking the sprawling city. With its glittering dancing lights and streets pulsing with light trails that appeared like veins, giving the world made of steel and concrete a live sign, it felt like home.

Alec had wanted to move to the countryside, far from…this. Somewhere more peaceful, quieter, a world with less stress, he had called it with a small smile. But this was Magnus’s life and bread. He was the city, and the city was him.

His work phone sang. Magnus, in the form of defiance, let it go to voicemail. But then it went again, and again, and again. It stopped. And then the private one went. He was at his desk in an instant. _Isabelle_ was flashing insistently over the screen.

“Isabelle?”

“Magnus?” Her voice barely registered. There was so much noise in the back, something that sounded like a motor, loud voices, a siren. “Oh, Magnus.” He was on guard.

“What is going on?” Holding the phone became tricky, there was a tremor in his fingers, or was it his arm? A tremble along his spine, his knees wobbled. Scenario after scenario crashed through his mind, he fought them all down, concentrating on reality.

“It’s Alec,” she breathed, and the room started to spin. He pressed his hand down on the desk. His mind…shut down.

“Is he…” he couldn’t—wouldn’t—finish the thought.

“He is alive, yet, still, somehow…” she said, her words cluttered. “They’re flying him in. I’ll ping you the address. Please, come, I—please…This is…I don’t know…I just, oh my god, my brother…Magnus, I—” choked and short spilled the words out of her, repeating “please” constantly. Please come, please be alright, please anyone just grant me this wish. She was trying not to cry.

He scraped any energy he had left together. “I will come.” What else could he say?

“Thank you,” and then the line was dead. A second later, there was a ping with the location.

Magnus acted. He sent a message to Ragnor and Catarina. Then sent an email to the board and his team, and then he started packing. He needed to be active, drowning out the voices in his head who were painting scenario after scenario for him to fall into and get lost. No, he wouldn’t fall for it.

Shoes, waistcoats, button-ups.

He would be strong.

Slacks, jackets, boxers, ties, socks.

_Breathe, Magnus._

Cufflinks. Earcuffs. Rings. Make-Up.

 _Be safe_ , Catarina wrote.

Toiletries.

 _If you must_ , came from Ragnor.

His eyes fell onto the side of the wardrobe. Alec’s things. Hoodies. Jeans. Sweats.

He exhaled.

 _We can handle it_ , came from the team.

* * *

Alicante City was loud and hot and humid. Magnus was sweating the moment he stepped out of the plane. The sun, even with his big shades (custom-made), was blinding and headache-inducing. Already dreading the process of pinning down a cab, he was surprised to find Lydia waiting for him. The blond power woman (and ex-fiancé of Alec) looked put together but frazzled at the edges. She wore a dark grey suit, perfectly tailored to her body and sensible dark high heels. She even tried a smile, tired, but genuine enough. He nodded at her.

“How is he?” He asked as she led him to her car. It was big and black with tinted windows, military-issued Magnus concluded. When he raised an eyebrow at it, she answered with a faintly amused twinkle in her eyes.

“Stable, for the moment.”

“What happened?” He wasn’t expecting an answer. The military was historically stingy with the details. And in the past, Alec never spoke about what went down on his tours.

“Classified,” Lydia said, in a tone that implied, she was aware of the secrecy and not d’accord with it.

“Oh?” Magnus raised an eyebrow. She shook her head, strands of blonde hair wisping around her head. Magnus didn’t think he had ever seen a hair out of place from her. She pointed to the middle console.

“There is your visitor badge. Jace and Isabelle will be there.”

“Maryse and Robert?”

“Detained with clean-up, at least Maryse is.” She paused while she changed lanes in a dizzying amount of times, weaving through the afternoon traffic like a swimmer on an empty pool lane. “At least for the moment.”

“Why are you here, Lydia?” He allowed himself to ask.

A tight smile appeared on her lips, her eyes never leaving the street in front of her.

“Why are you, Magnus Bane?”

Isabelle Lightwood was a frazzled storm with loose hair flying around her head and dark shadows under her eyes. Her combo of black skinny jeans, knee-high boots, and black blouse did nothing for her complexion. “Magnus!” she exclaimed and launched herself at him. He caught her with ease, pressing her close. She smelled of sweat and disinfect and coffee. Of all the Lightwoods and extended family, she was the only one he had connected with. “Thank god you could come.” She breathed in his ear, and he hugged her bit tighter before letting her go.

Lydia said something about lunch before disappearing down the hallway. Weaving through nurses and patients, the same way she drove through the traffic, with ease.

“How is he?” he repeated the question. The only question that mattered. Isabelle shrugged, sinking on the bench she had sat on once more.

“Stable, for the moment. The docs said we can only wait.”

“His injuries?” Facts, his mind needed facts.

“It’s a long list. When…,” she licked her lips and tried again. “When he wakes up, he will need extensive care.” She looked up with big eyes. “Magnus, I can’t lose him.”

Magnus sat down next to her and pulled her close. “You won’t.”

“But—”

“No, only positive thoughts.”

She opened her mouth, but the door next to them opened, and Magnus stared into the cold eyes of Jace Herondale, Alec’s second-in-command and adoptive brother, ward of the Lightwood family. His and Magnus’s relationship was kind of agnostic. Magnus thought Jace was too childish, getting away with too much while Alec suffered the brunt of it. Jace believed him to be a stuck-up fashionista, who looked down on everyone who couldn’t distinguish between the different Dior seasons. They hardly exchanged any words.

“It’s you.”

“Jace,” Magnus tried for his most neutral tone. Jace’s eyes did something complicated, a cross between a roll and narrowing them down, but kept his mouth shut. He was still in fatigues. Green was definitely not his color. Jace closed the door, and for a moment, everything was in limbo.

They could deny him. They could send him away, tell him never to return. Maybe they would even be kind enough to give him from time to time updates until those tapered out. He had seen it happen. He wasn’t a stranger to this. Should he wait them out until they came to a decision, or should he ask?

_Don’t be a coward, Magnus._

“Can I see him?” His voice was steady.

“Oh Magnus,” Isabelle said, and Jace blinked.

“That’s why I sent Lydia to get you,” he said and stepped to the side. “Go in, and I will sit with Izzy.”

Death and hospitals felt like an old companion to Magnus Bane. One, he was reluctant to revisit. He had said goodbye to his mother in one of those and to a long line of friends. So, when he walked into the closed curtains’ murky greyness and beeping and pushing and huffing sound, he wanted nothing more than to turn around and never return.

It took him everything to keep setting one foot in front of the other, creeping closer and closer to the one bed in the small space and the one person in it.

Alec was pale. The bedding was pale (blueish). His hair was still black but needed a cut. But the most glaring problem was that Alec was still. He was never still like this. He was always moving, even in his sleep, even when he just chilled, doing something with his fingers, body, legs, feet, face. Just fucking moving.

There was a cut in his forehead, stapled, a big bandage around his shoulder, his left arm was completely white. He had seen all those injuries in the past; Alec never came home wholly intact. But he was never so still.

He suppressed a sob. The door sprang open, making Magnus jump. A nurse bustled in. She checked the readings on the machines (so many), checked the IV-bag, and made notes on the chart.

“Can I touch him?” Magnus asked.

The nurse smiled. “The more, the better, but be careful of the tubes and cables.” Then she walked out.

Magnus settled into the visitor chair. His hands found Alec’s (clammy and cold); they didn’t grip back. His phone danced in his pocket, but he couldn’t make himself to care, he didn't want to care. He wasn’t even sure which one he had packed.

He laid his head down, connecting his forehead with the flesh of Alec’s arm. This was everything.

He closed his eyes.

A touch to his shoulder made Magnus look up. He blinked the grittiness in his eyes away. How long had it been? A blanket slipped off his shoulders as he straightened up. His whole body felt dirty and wrung out. He wiggled around to loosen his cramping back before he returned his eyes to the man beside him. Jace watched him. Amusement lurked in the depth of his eyes, he held up a pastry bag and a to-go-coffee.

“Hungry?”

“Famished,” Magnus said, his stomach rumbled for good measure. There was no other chair, so Jace took to the floor, leaning his back against the bed frame. The sandwich was vegetarian, and the coffee warm and sweet, with a hint of cinnamon, and not a sugary monstrosity, people tended to associate with him. For a moment, they listened to the machines, the constant beep of the heart monitor, and the ventilator’s sound.

Magnus opened his mouth and closed it again. His finger twiddling with the sandwich wrapper.

“Out with it.”

“Did he talk to you…before?”

Jace chuckled. “Contrary to what people may think, we talk to each other.” He sighed and looked up to the bed. “Sometimes, the voice of another human is the only thing that keeps you sane. I ripped him for his Kdrama addiction, he teased me about my obsession with black-white-detective mysteries. And we talked about what we do when this is over.” His eyes shifted back to Magnus.

“Signing up for a new tour,” Magnus muttered, while his eyes traced Alec’s figure. There was no change.

“I wanted to, but my captain…”

Magnus snapped back. “But he said to me—”

“He said it was time to think about an after.”

“But he said…” _I think we should take a break._ The words still burned through. Every time they drifted through his mind, they burned brighter and hotter, consuming him from the inside. “He said…” he whispered, looking once more at the pale dace, the pale lips, and the wild hair. Jace shrugged and collected the garbage.

“Maryse will arrive tomorrow.”

“I should therefore go.”

Jace shrugged, “Take it as you want it."

Magnus hadn’t planned this far. After Isabelle’s call, there had been only one thought: Get to Alec! The after…he never thought much about the _after_. Jace watched for a long moment and then nodded to himself as if he was concluding. “Across the street is a hotel, Lydia has reserved a room for you.”

Once, what now felt like a lifetime ago, Magnus fancied himself to be in love. Camille had been a lesson about youth and trust. In the aftermath, he put down the topic “relationships” as an experience never to be repeated—until Alec.

Magnus sighed as the hot water cascaded over him. The hotel room was small but clean, and the water pressure was just right. Magnus allowed his mind to drift.

It was time to think about the after, Jace had said. I think we should take a break, Alec had said. Those words didn’t fit together.

One hour later, he fell asleep to three empty bourbon miniatures and the drowning voices of the weather channel.

* * *

Magnus woke to his own choked breathing, the last reminiscences of a nightmare floating away, and laying in the flickering lights of the still going TV, he needed to know. He was across the streets and had charmed his way inside before his mind could catch up. As he slipped into the room, heard the steady hum of the machines, indicators that Alec was still alive, some of the tension slipped away. And the image of a black casket being lowered into dark wet air faded away.

* * *

Waking up for the third time in twenty-four hours left him confused and disorientated. His first glance fell onto Alec, and then when he raised his eyes, he was stripped bare under the waiting gaze of one Maryse Lightwood. She cut an impressive figure. Her hair was piled into a tight bun at the back of her neck, her trim figure clad in an impeccable plum-colored business suit. Her eyes were unreadable, and Magnus resisted the urge to snatch his hand away from Alec. He stood up to hide his nerves and kissed Alec on the forehead.

“Maryse,” he said with a nod after he had straightened up again.

“Magnus,” she acknowledged as he passed her and slipped out of the door. The bright light of the hallway hit him, and he closed his eyes for a second. The smell of coffee waved under his nose. “Marry me.”

“I think Alec has a word in it,” Jace said. “You look dreadful.”

“Was it the sweats or the non-make-up-face that gave it away?”

“For a second, I didn’t recognize you.”

Magnus snorted and grabbed the offered coffee cup. Jace had forgone the army clothes and was now wearing a black shirt and blue jeans. All probably from some generic brand bought in bulk. Magnus shuddered inside.

“Since when you are here?” He motioned for Magnus to follow him.

“Too early,” Magnus replied.

Jace hummed as an answer, while he guided them through the hallways. Magnus knew this was not their first stay here.

“Isabelle?”

“Asleep, I hope.”

They fell silent until they set foot outside.

“What happened?” Magnus asked the one person who must know.

There was a twist to Jace’s mouth. “What do you think happened?”

Magnus looked up into the sky and sighed. “He played the hero?”

“He played the hero.”

They circled the garden, nodding to patients and nurses.

“I never told him to be safe when we spoke before he shipped out. Never said that I love him.” It was a monstrous thought, one that had itself lodged deep inside his heart. Jace hummed again. He appeared far too relaxed for the entire situation. “Jace—”

“Magnus, this is between you and my brother. 'What if’s' and 'what should have been' have no place here. Alec needs to wake up and then to recover. The only question you should ask yourself is, will you be able to do it?”

“I—”

“It will be tough. Alec will need help. Will you be able to provide it?”

“I—”

Jace raised a hand to halt him. “Think about it.”

The buzzing of a phone cut through anything Magnus had wanted to say. Jace smiled at him and walked away. Magnus fished out his phone.

“Catarina,” he said in greeting.

“Magnus! Are you alright? Ragnor is ready to stage an intervention.”

“I’m at the hospital.”

“How is Alec?”

Magnus breathed out. Suddenly it was hard to talk. Seeing it was one thing, but saying it.

“Magnus?”

“He is…not good.”

“Oh, Magnus.” In the background, Magnus heard footsteps and voices over a PA. “What do you need?” Her matter-of-fact town was balm to his nerves.

“My computer, my notebooks, the supplier contracts.” He would stay here for a while.

“Send me the address. I will express it.”

“Thank you.” He concentrated on his breathing.

“Do you need anything else? I still have some vacation left.”

“Those are for the munchkin,” Magnus chided.

“Magnus,” Catrina said. The noise in her background had quieted down.

“It’s alright.” Exhale, Magnus. “I think.” He paused. “Before he shipped out, he said…he said he wants to take a break. And then he went and nearly got himself killed. Heck, he still can die. And I’m…and then Jace said Alec thought about leaving the military. You know, Alec and I always disagreed about one topic, and then...but he has put his stuff into boxes and stacked them in the guest room, but he…he…and I…”

“Magnus, breathe,” Catrina’s voice was urgent, “breath with me, come on, in and out, in and out. Listen to me. In and out. In and out. Slowly.”

Magnus inhaled and exhaled.

Inhale and exhale.

“That’s it.”

“Catarina,” he croaked.

“Whatever had been, for the moment, the here and now is the most important part. Everything else must wait. The one with answers is Alec. Concentrate on that.”

“Catarina…”

“I know Magnus. Just keep breathing. Call me if you need anything. You hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you,” he whispered.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He sat down onto a nearby bench and turned his face into the sun. When he took flight in the night, it had been cold, now he was sweating, and he didn’t care for once.

When Maryse sat down next to him, he wasn’t surprised.

“Maryse.”

“Magnus.”

The sun didn’t seem to have any effect on her. Only the small line between her brows was a sign of her discomfort.

“Will you stay?” she asked.

“A friend will send my work stuff.”

“Good.”

He looked to her, she was tracing something on the other side of the garden.

“Good?” he repeated.

“Alec—he will tell you when he wakes up.” She stood.

Magnus felt like the protagonist of a novel that someone else was writing. Everyone was behaving strangely, different then he was used too. Was this how they dealt with it?

Maybe.

_Did you want to be there?_

_I think we should take a break._

_It is time to think about the after._

“Magnus?” Same position, same name, different person. Isabelle’s eyes were huge and dark and red. The corners of her mouth were drawn down, and a deep line rested between her brows. She had foregone her usual designer dresses and high heels and wore a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. A comfort-combo, just like himself. Like that, she looked as lost as she felt.

“Isabelle,” he answered, taking in the second chair in her hands, and the slight tremble in her arms. He scooped to the side.

The sound of the machines filled the room.

“Maryse?” he asked.

“Making calls,” Isabelle answered, her fingers tracing the fingers of her brother.

“Jace?”

“Making calls,” there was a twitch in her face.

“Lydia?”

“Making calls.”

“Robert?”

Isabelle shrugged.

“Magnus?” she asked.

“Not making calls,” he answered. The corners of her mouth tugged upward. It was a small victory. “What is it, Isabelle?”

“You will not abandon him, or?” Like all the others after he brought Magnus home.

Once, it had been an argument between Alec and him and between Alec and his family; loving Mangus and admitting that, had cost Alec a lot. But he pushed through and never wavered. Too proud and too stubborn for that.

“He will always have my help,” Magnus evaded.

_I think we should take a break._

That evening, he didn’t even try to leave. Someone said something to someone else, and he was left alone.

It was the second morning in a row that he woke to Maryse staring at him. Her eyes wandered over him. “Don’t let yourself go,” she said before she handed him a to-go-cup. “Jade had to return to the base. Isabelle will be around in an hour. I will sit with him, go and wash-up.”

Magnus was able to suppress a “Yes, ma’am” and a salute, but it was a close thing.

At the door, he turned, watching Maryse settling in the nearest chair and taking Alec’s hand. It reminded Magnus that Alec was also a son, and she was still a mother. He swallowed and left.

At the hotel, the concierge handed him the package from Catarina. He texted her to let her know and to thank her once again.

Maryse had been right; a shower was a good idea. He felt the muscles in his back give some of the tension up. Back in the room, clad in only a towel, he hesitated. His mind was still a mess, and going through his usual routine while soothing felt exhausting. He compromised: The softer slacks, no waistcoat, a dark button-up, minimal make-up, and just a bit fluffing up of the hair. He felt more himself, and yet, he still didn’t know the tired man in the mirror. His eyes lingered on his sketchbooks, but he made a grab for the pc, he needed to get some work done.

Maryse raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment further when he settled in the second chair. They passed the time until Isabelle came in silence. He worked, and Maryse typed away on her phone. Isabelle arrived with lunch, they ate. After, Maryse left and Isabelle took her place. It was soothing, comfortable. And yet…There was an ugly feeling bubbling under Magnus’s skin. An itch that made him restless.

Lydia brought dinner when the sun set and then brought Isabelle home. She would then return and sit with Alec through the night. When he left, he kissed Alec goodbye on the temple, and for a moment, he was reluctant. He wanted to bury his face in Alec’s neck and never let go again. But he refrained, just let his fingers dance over the flesh that wasn’t covered with the breathing mask, and then, without looking at Lydia, he walked out.

Back in his hotel room, with more miniature bottles and his sketchbooks open, he felt disconnected. He stared down at the lines and shapes of the garments, they were beautiful dresses. All bedazzled and expertly drabbed on paper and soon in reality. Expensive. Exclusive. He and his team had worked hard on this and the runway show, and yet looking down at what he had created, he felt nothing anymore.

“Fuck,” he said to the room and emptied a bottle. And then he started to work.

* * *

It was the start of a new rhythm for him. He slept a few hours and went into the hospital to sit with Alec while answering calls, texts, and emails. He ate when food was pushed onto him; in the evenings, he’d go to the hotel, work some more, and then sleep. On those nights where the alcohol wasn’t enough to quiet down his thoughts and nightmares, he would slip back into the hospital room and watch the night shift to a new day. Magnus lived on caffeine and spite.

He was watching, touching, talking.

Waiting.

All the time he was waiting.

So it was only natural that Alexander would wake up on the day he was called away.

* * *

_Life wasn’t fair_ ; Magnus Bane’s second rule in life was constant background noise. So when the text from Isabelle came that Alec had finally woken up, five minutes before Magnus was due to meet with his suppliers, he stared at the message for two of those. Going into a panic would help no one, getting up and leaving was out of the question. There was only one path he could take: Sit through the meeting, clarify everything that needed was a must, and then take the next flight back to Alicante. He exhaled. Then he typed a message to Isabelle and turned his phone off.

When he finally slipped into Alec’s room, it was dark. Isabelle smiled up at him. “He is asleep. They took him off the ventilator. There are some concerns about some of the readings, but they’re optimistic,” she told him when he settled down. “He asked after you.” Magnus swallowed, Isabelle put a hand on his arm. “Magnus, everything will be alright.” He tried to answer with a smile to reassure her, but he felt it stretching along his face, like cheap old make-up put on too thick. Isabelle squeezed his arm and left him for the night.

Magnus pulled the chair closer to the bed and let his head rest against the warmth of Alec’s arm. He exhaled and was asleep.

Movement in his hair and the soft murmur of voices woke him. For a moment, everything was as it should be. He and Alec, lazy mornings, Alec was phoning his siblings. He blinked, felt the kink in his back, and the memory returned.

“He looks exhausted,” that was Maryse.

And then croaky and soft Alec’s sweet, sweet voice. “I think he has a collection coming up,” Alec’s fingers brushed over the lines of his forehead, before scratching over the short hair on the sides of his mohawk, just the way Magnus liked it. “This must be hard for him.”

“Alec,” Maryse scolded him, and Alec huffed.

The thumb on his scalp was hypnotic, circling just right, just as Alec had always done to get him to rest, to sleep. _He knows I’m awake_ , Magnus thought before he was pulled under.

Waking up, with light outside and a stiff body, was something Magnus was getting used to. Tired eyes watched him bemused, as he tried to get his limbs to move again.

“Alexander,” he breathed and then didn’t know what to say anymore.

“Hi,” Alec smiled at him. The bruises and scratches on his face had lightened. The left arm was still splinted. Color had returned to his skin and lips. He was awake. The after would begin.

“How do you feel?” Magnus asked the most obvious question, but it was the only one in his mind that didn’t open up a can of worms.

Alec made a subtle movement with his shoulders. A shrug. “Still out of it. My memory is a bit patchy there at the end. But Jace will fill me in.” He chuckled. “After he is done yelling at me.” His eyes twinkled.

“What have the doctors said?” Magnus hadn’t dared to touch Alec. When Alec had been out of it, he could pretend that they were still something. But now? Magnus chided himself. This was not about him or them. This was about Alec.

Alec groaned. “Two or three weeks, depending on my process under observation. And then they will probably move me to rehab.”

Magnus calculated it would be another month at least. For the hot phase of the collection, he would need to be present, better even before. But he could stretch it. It would kill him, but he had done it in the past. Flying back and forth, setting up in the hotel room. He could—

“Magnus.” Alec’s tone made it clear that it wasn’t the first time he was calling him. Magnus blinked. “Magnus,” Alec repeated more gently. He looked exhausted; his voice was still croaky, his face flushed. “Stop,” he said. “I know your show is coming up, and I know how you get when it goes into the hot phase.”

“Alexander—” Magnus started, but Alec held up his hand, well, he kind of flopped it around on the bed. He smiled weakly.

“Don’t feel obligated—”

“You think this is an obligation?” Magnus felt hurt. _I think we should take a break._ The phrase burned inside him.

“Magnus.” Magnus knew that tone of voice. It had always amused Magnus how others snapped to attention when Alec used his commanding voice. It wasn’t so amusing to be on the receiving end. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m awake, I'm kind of better. For me, there is now only left to get back on my feet. You’ve got a collection due. And I know until the show is over that your attention is divided. And I don’t need that. But I can also not ask you to let the show go. Because that is you, that one thing you fought for, with tears and your sanity.” Magnus swallowed. Alec’s fingertips found his cheek; he smiled. “Go home, do your magic, and then we can talk.”

“Alexander—” Magnus tried once more, but Alec shook his head.

“Go home, Magnus.”

* * *

The apartment was as he had left it, with all the glaring holes and packed boxes in the spare room. And yet, the shadows were harsher, the light more blinding, and the city’s noises louder.

Magnus shut the curtains and got to work.

* * *

“He is depressed,” Isabelle’s voice on the other side of the phone was small.

“Depressed?” Magnus echoed. Alexander could be many things, but being depressed wasn’t something Alec appeared to be capable of.

“He got the discharge letter yesterday. Honorably." She scoffed. "I mean, we knew it was coming, he won’t be able to return to active duty, and he had always expressed a distaste for an office job.”

“What will he be doing now?” Magnus eyed the stack of papers he still had to go through.

Isabelle exhaled. “At the moment, staring out of the window. Magnus, I’m worried.”

Magnus let his fingers dance over his desk. They still were something to each other, despite the limbo state of their relationship. “Has he got his phone back?”

“No, but Lydia got him a new one, let me send you his number. Jace is still calling around to get his things shipped.” She hesitated. “Magnus.”

“Yeah?”

“He still loves you.”

“Yeah,” he said.

* * *

# Alexander

####  **Today** , 3:02 AM

Magnus: 
    Stop looking out the window like a mournful maiden

Alexander: 
    Magnus?

Magnus: 
    Someone else who writes you at 3 am?

Alexander: 
    Touché 
    Go to bed

Magnus: 
    Only if you go

Alexander: 
  
    Jokes's on you, I never left it
  


Magnus: 
  
    Alexander
  


Alexander: 
  
    Magnus
  


Magnus: 
    Good night, Alexander

Alexander: 
  
    XD 
  
    Good night
  


* * *

Texting Alec reminded Magnus of a time called _before_.

* * *

# Alexander

####  **Today** , 4:17 PM

Alexander: 
    

Magnus: 
    Why are you sending me cat memes all day?

Alexander: 
    
    I can stop?

Magnus: 
    Don't you dare

Alexander: 
    

* * *

“They cleared out most of the machines. He tried to get up. It’s going as expected.” Isabelle sounded tired.

“Is he still staring out the window?”

“No, now he stares at his phone,” Isabelle said with a chuckle.

Magnus huffed.

“Thank you, Magnus.”

He closed his eyes, picturing her. Her soft smile, her eyes shining with gratitude. The same she had shown the day Alec had introduced him. She had hugged him and whispered, “Thank you.”

* * *

# Alexander

####  **Today** , 2:52 AM

Alexander: 
    it hurts

>>>Incoming call Magnus

Call finished after 31:07

* * *

# Alexander

####  **Today** , 9:52 AM

Alexander: 
    Tell me about the collection

Magnus: 
    Sparkly

Alexander: 
    Sparkly?

Magnus: 
    Sparkly
    

Alexander: 
    Sparkly is an apt description

* * *

# Alexander

####  **Today** , 4:52 AM

Magnus: 
    This is bs 
    I will just burn it all 
    To the fucking ground

Magnus: 
    Fuck this shit

>>>Incoming call Alexander

Call finished after 05:20

# Alexander

####  **Today** , 4:58 AM

Magnus: 
    I'm sorry 
    shit

Magnus: 
    I'm sorry

Alexander: 
    no, it's my fault

####  **Today** , 5:47 AM

Magnus: 
    Forgive me

Alexander: 
    Always

* * *

# Alexander

####  **4\. August** , 1:03 PM

Alexander: 
    I found a cat in the garden 
    

####  **5\. August** , 8:42 PM

Alexander: 
    How is it going?

####  **6\. August** , 9:42 PM

Alexander: 
    have you killed them yet?

####  **Yesterday** , 11:34 PM

Alexander: 
    Magnus?

####  **Today** , 6:01 AM

Alexander: 
    magnus?

* * *

# Isabelle - Fashionista

####  **Yesterday** , 3:03 PM

Isabelle: 
    Magnus

####  **Today** , 1:07 PM

Isabelle: 
    Okay, Catarina tells me you’re still alive. So I will assume you’re just buried in work. Well, at least Alec tells me. 
    They move him to rehab tomorrow. I attached the address. 
    Visiting won’t be a problem. 
    Just announce yourself at the entry and leave your info, and they will give you a badge. 
    We put your name down, so there shouldn’t be any problem.

Isabelle: 
    Oh, I should warn you…
    Jace is on the warpath. 
    Alec talked to him…but dunno. 
    He is cursing a lot.

Isabelle: 
    Maybe you can drop Alec a line… 
    Or just a dumb meme?

* * *

# Alexander

####  **Today** , 1:03 AM

Alexander: 
    I'm sorry

_I think we should take a break._

* * *

_Magnus, love…_

_Don’t call me that._

_Magnus._

_No, you said, we should take a break, you packed up your stuff, took yourself away, you…it was you._

_Magnus._

_No, not now…Fuck this._

>>>Call closed after 05:20

* * *

# Herondale

####  **Today** , 5:13 PM

Jace:
     I will ring the bell in five minutes you’d better be home!

Jace didn’t lie. The doorbell went precisely five minutes after he had sent the message. Magnus cursed and wrenched the door open.

“You look like hell.”

Magnus huffed, staggered, and just caught himself on the frame.

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you to sit down.” He guided Magnus by the elbow in the living room and cleared a patch on the couch to make him sit down. The place was a mess, fabrics, sketches, half-finished experiments, stacks of pictures, and drawing supplies were scattered everywhere. Jace shook his head and walked away. Magnus heard him open doors and drawers. And then some curses.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Magnus shrugged, fingering the stack of paper next to his leg. He fished a sketch out of it. Oh, that was important—

Another curse and Jace moved away, and there was a jingle, then the closing of a door and Magnus was alone again.

Half an hour, or was it more? Magnus kind of lost some time there. Anyway, there was a pot of steaming Pho bo thrust in front of him.

“It was the fastest I could get my hands on, and which would be okay for your stomach,” Jace said. “I will put the groceries away and then prepare some meals you only need to microwave. And I will text Catarina to keep an eye on you.”

“What’s going on?” Magnus was confused.

Jace opened his mouth and closed it again, shaking his head. “Eat, then we will talk.”

“I don’t have time,” Magnus waved around the room for emphasis.

“You will make time,” Jace commanded, too stunned Magnus obeyed. While Jace shuffled around in the kitchen, Magnus concentrated on the broth’s richness, the slight spiciness, and the acidity of the lime; it was filling and satisfying.

When he finished, Jace had taken place opposite him, watching him. He had his hands clasped in front of him, a line between his brows.

“I’m not good at this. Talking about the heavy stuff. Alec is the one who normally takes the plunge.” He snorted. “But I will have to do.” He rocked back on his seat and wiped his hands on his tights in a surprising nervous gesture. “I’m not entirely sure what happened before Alec deployed—”

“He said…” Magnus licked his lips, why was it so hard to say those words? “He said we should take a break.”

Jace shook his head. “Nothing is ever easy with you, hm Alec?”

“Did he really want to get out?”

“Yeah, he wanted a steady job somewhere. Fuck, he looked up house listenings.”

“And yet, he wanted to leave me,” Magnus said. He felt empty. Alec had not shared any of those things with him. Where had they gone wrong?

“Magnus, he wanted to marry you.”

All thoughts came to a screeching halt. “What?”

Jace sighed and got a small box out of his jacket pockets. It was black velvet. “He gave me this for safekeeping back then.” He let it fall in Magnus’s trembling hands. Inside it nestled a silver ear cuff with an intricate design of flowers and veins and sapphires. Magnus choked. They had talked about it once, and Magnus had said an ear cuff would be better because he already wore too many rings.

“What does this mean?” He had his eyes glued to the small jewelry.

“I wish I knew, he bought it on tour, so after you two last spoke. Shit, I told you I’m not good at this. But you need to talk to him. Only he can explain.”

“I can’t—”

“Mangus—”

“No, Jace, I literally can’t.” He waved one hand around, indicating the mess the whole apartment was in. “I don’t have the capacity to do anything besides this. This is important not only to me but also to the team, who has worked hard in the last months.”

“Is that why you have ignored us?”

“No, yes, maybe…it’s complicated. I need to think, process everything that is going on, and I just can’t.”

Jace huffed, but he appeared more relaxed. “She told me the same.”

“Isabelle?”

“No, Maryse.”

That was a surprise.

“Don’t look so surprised. Maryse may have her flaws, but she also loves her children very much. And she only wants the best for them, that includes their love interests and potential partners. She knew Alec’s preferences would put him into a tough position, so he needed someone strong enough to weather the storm. And you’re hard-working and taking no shit. You impressed her.”

“She had a strange way of showing it,” Mangus muttered.

There was a long pause. “Okay, listen, and I’m not saying this to hurt you, but you never meet her in the middle. I think you wanted to see the hardened military family who didn’t have a sense of anything else, and you lived by it."

“I—”

_“They don’t want me there, they never have.”_

_“And you?” A tired question._

_“Me?”_

_“Did you ever want to be there?”_

There lurked another truth in the question.

“I—” he tried once more.

“Think about what you want. Because Alec, and you as well, deserve an honest answer.”

* * *

# Alexander

####  **Today** , 7:25PM

Alexander: 
    When the show is over, let us talk.

Magnus: 
    okay 
    okay

* * *

Watching gown after gown walk down the runway was a vision come true; it gave Magnus goosebumps. This was his vision, once merely strokes of a pencil on paper and now moving and twirling and dazzling the audience. He had worked hard. His team had worked hard. And now it was finished and done. He could let it go.

And then?

What then?

Talking to Alexander for one.

And after?

* * *

Alexander Lightwood stood out; he always had. If it was in his dress uniform or army fatigues, in a suit or sweats, Captain Lightwood cut an impressive figure. Even now, in just black slacks and a soft-looking shirt, his hands resting on a cane, people noticed him. But he let his eyes roam over the crowd, and when they found Magnus’s, he smiled.

“Let us walk,” he said when Magnus was close enough to touch. He wanted to reach out and feel the solid flesh under his fingertips again, the warmth of his blood, the pulse under the skin. The edge in Alec’s eyes stopped him.

The garden was beautiful. Lush green scenery, small secluded paths, flowers in full bloom were brimming with insects and humming with bees.

“How are you?” _Really Magnus, the most stupid question?_

Alec took it in good stride. “Better. I’m standing upright, and I’m walking. For the moment, that is enough.”

“Is it?” Magnus questioned.

Alec chuckled. “For the moment, it has to be.”

Magnus hummed as Alec steered him down yet another smaller path. “What will you do now?”

“I will buy a house.” When Magnus looked over, Alec smiled.

“Oh.”

They stopped under a round pergola, the lush green wine shielding them from the sun and other curious passersby. Alec sat down on a bench with a sigh. Magnus saw some of the stress lines around his eyes ease. He must be in pain.

Magnus took the small black box out of his pocket. “Jace gave me this. It’s only right to give it back to you.” He held it out, but Alec closed his hands—warm and dry—around it, trapping the box in Magnus's hands. Then he pressed them back.

“It’s a gift. However, you want to take it.”

They stared at each other. Alec looked soft, at peace even.

“Why did you want to take a break? Why the ear cuff? Why the house? Nothing of the things I heard about you in the last weeks make any sense.”

Alec held the cane between his hands, rolling the stick between his palms. The raven at the top was twirling around. “The break then felt right.” Alec looked up. His eyes held sadness and a quiet determination. “Things had changed.”

“How so?”

“We were drifting apart. You hated my family, the last month you declined every invitation that was extended to you, you stayed in your office well through the night. The only people you ever saw were Ragnor and Catarina. And I thought it was your way of showing me that you wanted out.” There was a twitch on Alec’s right face, a nervous tick when he was particularly stressed. Magnus’s fingers itched to smooth it.

“Your family—” And then Magnus stopped.

_Did you ever want to be there?_

_You didn’t meet her in the middle._

_Why are you here, Magnus Bane?_

What was the truth?

‘Oh, fashion designer.’ _Condescending or interested?_

‘They forgot the wine.’ _Not carrying or an honest mistake?_

‘We will have it on the second last weekend.’ _Ignoring his work or no other date had been possible?_

“Magnus?”

Magnus blinked, he hid the trembling fingers behind his back.

“I’m an asshole.” He had—he had just assumed the worst.

“It’s my fault.”

“Alexander…”

“No, let me.” Alec still smiled. “I should’ve seen it and took measures to reassure you that my family and friends wanted you to be there. That they like you, like who you are and that they support you. But, I was too caught up in proving that I still was a good son and soldier, that I could carry on the family legacy despite my…preferences and my feelings to see what was going on. And then I took the cowardly way out and left you alone. For that, I apologize.”

Magnus let the words settle. “And now?”

Alec looked down at his hands. “I don’t know, Magnus. I barely have the energy to hold myself together. Before the accident, after I returned, I wanted to ask you to marry me, to build a life together, and to make you see that you’re loved. Because you are, Magnus Bane. But like I said, I’m just too exhausted, too out of it, to give this,” he made a hand movement between them, “some real thought. I apologize.”

Magnus had no words inside him anymore. No feelings, no nothing.

“I—” But Alec was interrupted by his phone. He took it out. “It’s Isabelle. I need to get back.” He stood, leaning heavily on the cane.

“Do you need help?”

“No.” He reached out and squeezed Magnus’s hand. “See you later, Magnus.”

It wasn’t a goodbye, but it felt like one.

* * *

The apartment was dark and empty. Alec had been released and found a house. Jace and a friend had gotten the boxes from the spare room. Magnus had watched them work, not saying a word. That evening he got blindingly drunk with Ragnor and stayed the next two days in bed. Until Catarina threw him out of it; now, he sat at his desk and did nothing. He looked down at his sketches, the base for the next collection, and felt nothing. Everything appeared far away and not him and unnecessary.

Why had he started designing clothes in the first place? Just because he had been good at it? Because of the money? No, all that had come later, after he had fought for his position. Before all that, he had wanted to feel good, unique, and wanted to show other people that they could feel the same way. Clothes made people. He wanted to give them a sense of self, make them feel empowered.

His eyes drifted over the press pictures of the last show. The sparkly dresses and gowns, with their twisted lines and architectural goddess, were beautiful, in a cold and abstract way. Distant even.

Wasn’t he the same?

Seeing the worst to justify being distant and aloof? To negotiate any hurt before it happened?

Magnus thumped open his private phone. The last message from Isabelle was still open. She had sent him the address of the house and the text of the listening.

_…perfect for a studio…_

_…open space…_

_…close to the city…_

He thought about the black box sitting on his dresser, visible to him every night when he lay in ~~their, his,~~ the bed.

_However, you want to take it._

* * *

If Alec was surprised to see him at 2 a.m. in the night standing in front of his door, he didn’t show it. He just stepped to the side and let him in. In the quiet of the hallway, they stared at each other.

“Magnus, what—”

“Ask me,” Magnus blurted out.

“Ask you?” he asked, confused. His hair was sleep tousled, and he leaned heavily on his cane, pain lines were around his mouth. And yet, he was beautiful.

“Yes,” Magnus stepped forward, taking the small box out of his jacket. “Ask me.”

Alec fumbled for the box, letting his cane fall to the ground. Something very fragile was suddenly in his eyes. “Magnus,” he croaked. “Magnus Bane, will you move in with me?”

It wasn’t quite the question Magnus had expected, but it was fitting. This was a promise to an after. And maybe this time, Magnus could even live with a ring.

“Yes.” Magnus had never felt so sure, as he had at this moment.

With trembling fingers fastened Alec the ear cuff, and then he took Magnus’s face in his hands and kissed him.

It wasn’t perfect. They still needed to talk, properly talk, and potentially fight.

But this right here, that was a beginning.

And for the moment, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you feel up to it, I would love to hear your thoughts! Otherwise thanks for staying until the end. <3


End file.
